


Marvel's Mrs. Maisel

by DustedSun



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: 1950s Slang, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen, Jarvis is back because I love him, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Post-Season/Series 01, SCIENCE!, Susie and Tony become drinking buddies eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-10-06 00:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20498138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustedSun/pseuds/DustedSun
Summary: Tony and Steve wake up in 1959 thanks to some alien technology, and from what they can tell, some comedian named Mrs. Maisel is their only hope to get back to their own universe. Susie, for her part, just wants all of this Alternate Universe bullshit to just calm down, thank you.





	1. Welcome to the 1950s

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Marvel's Mrs. Maisel video by Funny or Die

Steve wakes up to the radio telling him to vote for Kennedy, which, considering that Bucky said he might have assassinated him (and Natasha quietly confirming it), didn’t make any sense.The voice was talking at something resembling the speed of light and pausing for laughs, like it was a comedy skit. She mentioned something about Jackie and her parents and linen and Steve finally opened his eyes. She talked closer to what he remembered from his childhood than the 21 st  century he was getting used to, and the small apartment was missing some of the appliances that used to be there. Everything felt groggy and unfocused and this wasn’t the right decade and- 

Oh goddammit Fury. Again? The radio trick, again? 

Steve bolted up, and instantly regretted it. His head was splitting open and he was nauseous as hell. He felt like he’d been drugged, which didn’t make sense. Was SHIELD still enough of a thing for them to drug him? What the hell were they thinking? God, his head was pounding. 

Wait, actually, that was his door. 

“Hey asshole! Pick up your fucking newspaper before others trip on it!” Steve stumbled out of bed and threw open the door. Or, tried to. The bed blocked it, and he couldn’t see anything. “Down here, you piece of shit.” 

Steve looked down to see a short brown-haired women wearing overalls and a very impressive scowl. Steve tried to flash her a friendly grin, make her feel at ease. Somehow, that made her scowl more. Ok, damage control. 

“Uh, I’m new to the building and-“

“Look, I don’t give a flying fuck what you’re doing, just pick up your damn paper and stay away from me.” The woman picked up the paper, shoved it at him. “And don’t bring anyone over after 2 am, the walls are thin.”

“Uh, I-, ma’am,” 

“The name’s Suzy, not  _ ma’am _ ” The woman, Suzy apparently, scowled at the phrase. Then she turned around and clambered down rickety stairs, leaving Steve still stuttering and processing. He glanced down at the paper and freezes. January 1 st , 1959. 

This couldn’t be Fury. There was nothing to gain by making him think it was the late 50s. Steve quickly scanned through the paper and…

“Cuban government in disarray.”

“Soviet Union to the South Pole.”

“Tony Stark speaks about the Cold War.”

Wait. Tony hadn’t even been born yet. Steve went through that page again and looked through the story. Stark Industries, which was still a weapons manufacturer, wasn’t only run by Howard Stark; he co-ran it with his son, who was in conversation about the atomic bomb his father had helped build, along with the political tension involved. Steve turned to the page and swallows. That’s Tony, all right. The Tony Steve knew, and the one he hadn’t seen in a year, even if he looked a bit younger. 

Well, time to find cab fare and a bus schedule. If anyone could fix it, it would probably be Tony. He wondered how Tony was doing.

* * *

Tony Stark was not doing fine, and it was all the aliens’ fault. One stupid hunk of technology that he had been running tests on and he wakes up in 1959 this morning, with his dad still alive and on decent terms with him. Not to mention Pepper was still his PA, Rhodey was in the army but he couldn’t call him and Stark Industries still produced weaponry. Alien technology got him jettisoned back to the beginning of the Cold War with phones that he was years ahead of when he was five and nuclear threats everywhere. 

Fuck Aliens. Fuck them all to hell.

“Mr. Stark, someone is here to see you.” Pepper walks in, her face younger and her hair shorter and pinned up in curls. It reminds him of Aunt Peggy, and his chest hurt as he thinks about it. Maybe Peggy was still alive here. Tony had woken up younger, born right before the war had started. His mom had run away. Rhodey had still met him in college, but they hadn’t seen each other in years. Anything was possible. 

“Who is it?” Tony asks, drinking some of the coffee on his desk and hoping it’s another random politician he gets to yell at. That’s happened three times this morning. Which is a good distraction, because good God, this coffee is disgusting. 

“He says his name is Steve Rogers.” And Tony promptly spits out his coffee. 

Pepper raises an eyebrow at the coughing fit he’s now trying to get control of, but she doesn’t say anything. Steve Rogers. Steve fucking Rogers. Of course. And he had to play along long enough to figure out how to get home. 

And of course, the last time he saw this guy, he’d rammed his father’s shield into his chest. This was going to be fun. 

“Send him in,” He muttered and caught Pepper’s face. “What?” 

“How do you know it’s actually Steve Rogers? Your dad didn’t mention him showing up today.” Oh lovely, Steve Rogers was still dad’s old war buddy. That was going to be fun. 

“If it’s not actually him, we can always have him thrown out. But thank you for looking out for me, Ms. Potts.” 

Pepper almost smiled at that as she turned on her very tall heels and strolled away. Tony couldn’t help but grin. It had been a while since this had been the dynamic between them. From what he could tell, he’d woken up in an alternate world that had based itself off the original, and that meant that Pepper was his PA again, but this time with curls. The grin slipped off his face as he saw Captain America, back in old-looking clothes and the beginnings of a shaggy beard. Right. Dad’s old war buddy. Let’s do this. 

“Hello Mr. Rogers,” Tony said, standing up and offering his press smile. He wasn’t eager to repeat that first meeting on the Helicarrier. He still had shit he had to do before he could go to a lab and figure this out, and “throwing hands,” as the Spiderling called it, wouldn’t help that. 

Steve’s-no, wait, Rogers’s- face flickers a bit as he nods. He looks a bit disappointed, and isn’t that just the cake. Some things never change. 

“Hi, Tony.” 

Ok, that sounded like the guy Tony had been on a team with, with too much familiarity for “dad’s friend”. He looked at him like he was expecting something, like he was waiting for Tony to notice him somehow. He never took his eyes off his face.

It was a little unnerving actually. Was it possible that…Oh screw it. Time to mess with the system a bit; he could always claim eccentricity later. 

“I will say, I do miss the AC/DC as a soundtrack to my life, but The Platters isn’t half bad. Makes a fun wartime movie.” 

Rogers’ eyes got comically round and his jaw dropped. Tony waited for a response, still shooting him his press smile as he stuttered. Maybe this wasn’t the cuddly Captain America he’d come to know and love. And then rammed his shield into his chest. Oops. 

“Never mind. What can I-“

“Tony?” Steve’s-nope, Roger’s-voice cracked on his voice and Tony looked up into his eyes. He was still tall, muscular, and the beard made his eyes even bluer. Somewhere in Tony’s chest, his heart panged. He’d missed him. But he didn’t trust him, not after Siberia. Press smile, Tony, come on. 

“Ok then Rogers, so we’re both stuck in the past thanks to alien technology, see you in 60 years.” Tony said, waving his hand to emphasize his nonchalance as he turned away, just so he didn’t have to look into his eyes

“Tony, listen…I’m sorry about Siberia.” Oh, great, now they were doing this. And he couldn’t suit up and fly back to the compound. Tony rolled his shoulders once, then turned around.

“Well, you’re sorry. Great. Fantastic. It doesn’t matter anyway.” 

“Tony…” Steve trails off, giving him a sad look. For a split second, Tony wanted to do anything to get that look off Steve’s face. 

But no. Tony’d been through months of therapy to build himself back up. He’d revised the accords, built up something with the Avengers that were left, got Rhodey walking again and dealt with the fact that Steve Rogers would never care about him half as much as he would about Bucky. All of that had stung, but he’d gotten through it. He wasn’t going to open his heart up just to have it smashed in again. 

“Yeah, Rogers? It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s been a year.” Tony took in a shaky breath. “And you made your position pretty clear. Just because we’re stuck in an alternate universe where I’m 21, apparently, doesn’t change that fact.” Steve flinched, a bit. He looked a bit younger too, and more at home here than he’d ever been with the Avengers. Maybe he should stay here.

“How can you say it doesn’t matter?” 

“Because it’s been a year. I’ve moved on from then. I’m sure you have too.” 

Steve opens his mouth, and Tony sighs. “Look, give me a day, ok? I’ll figure out what’s happening, and get back to you. For now…I guess go talk to Aunt Peg and dad. They’re still alive.” 

Yeah, he was well aware that he hadn’t let Steve talk. But if he had, then he’d have to deal with Sad Steve, and Tony was way too stressed for it. Maybe he’d be happier here; he had comically perked up as soon as he’d mentioned Aunt Peg. And Tony could then focus on getting home, because Peter had a science fair that he was going to miss and the kid was going to be so disappointed if he didn’t come. 

Of course, several hours later, after he’d beaten his head against the non-holographic lab table (was it pushing it if he invented it himself?), Tony had taken a cab to “wherever there was cheap booze and some entertainment.” Because there was nothing that he could find out of the ordinary. He’d run every single test imaginable, but the tests all said everything was peachy-keen.

Did people say peachy-keen in this decade? They definitely said boss, because his dad had said that the new deal was “boss.” He’d also been told to “hang loose,” “pig out,” and listen to some “twitchin’ jams.” That one made Tony throw up in his mouth a little; It made him miss Peter saying “big mood” every time Tony said something vaguely depressing.

He shoved some money at the cab driver and groaned as he trudged to somewhere called “the Gaslight.” It was a very dingy hole-in-the-wall club, but it was perfect for his 3 AM insomnia. 

“What’s the strongest thing 10 bucks and a Sophie Lennon pin can buy?” He asked a short woman at the bar once he’d gotten inside. The woman glared up at him. 

“You like Sophie Lennon?” She asked, her entire body on edge. She was pretty threatening, even if she was shorter than him. And he was pretty short. She certainly made up for it through persona. 

“Lady, I have no idea who Sophie Lennon is. But I have no way to melt it down to make it more useful, so…you got anything you can do with it?” 

The woman’s scowl changed into a grin as she slammed down a glass, and filled it with vodka. “Chuck that shit into the Hudson river and we’ll call it even.” Tony threw his head back and laughed as he grabbed the glass. 

“You got yourself a deal,” He said as he shoved the money on the counter. Thankfully, she hadn’t realized who he was. His disguise, disgusting brown baggy pants and a bonnet, apparently worked really well. 

He sat himself down somewhere near the bar and chugged half the glass in one gulp as he turned to his thoughts. There had to be something that could help. There had to be  _ something  _ that was off, it was alien technology for Christ’s sake. Its entire fucking job was to make things weird. 

“ Ladies and Gentlemen, Mrs. Maisel!” Oh wait, this thing had entertainment. At 3 AM. Tony chugged some more vodka; he did not want to be sober for this. 

“Good Evening, lady and gentleman!” A woman in a black cocktail dress had walked on stage. She looked furious. 

“So what’s the deal with New Year’s resolutions? They’re weird, right? Once a year, we tell ourselves ‘I’m going to completely change my life,’ and then one week later we’re back to drinking wine straight out of the bottle and arguing with your mother about whether your kids looks more like Winston Churchill or Bugs Bunny.” 

The room chuckles, and Tony looks around. The room is transfixed, hanging on her every word. 

“Well, turns out my father didn’t get the memo. I walk in on New Year’s day to papers. Papers fucking everywhere. My dad, a Columbia professor, by the way, he’s  _ paid  _ to be smart, decides that he’s going to plan out the future. Apparently, we’re going to get to 50 states, Tony Stark’s going to build a flying robot suit and the Russians are going to join an alliance with aliens!” 

Tony chokes on his drink, and looks around the room again. Tendrils of bright light were streaming around the room now, and the crowd looked to be under some sort of spell. Robot suit and aliens was a bit too close to call coincidence, and Tony’s gut felt cold. Was she an alien? A magician? A god? What the hell was going on?

“What the fuck?” Tony turned and saw the woman from the bar looking around too. She wasn’t affected by the spell. She seemed to be the only one. 

“You can see this too?” He asked, looking at her. She stared at him in disbelief and nodded. “Does this happen often?” 

“First time.” The woman said, looking up at “Mrs. Maisel.” “The fuck is happening?” 

Well, at the very least Tony had found something otherworldly. Now to figure out what the hell was going on. 

“So, what do you say to coming to Stark Industries tomorrow?”


	2. Susie being an Agent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more about establishing than I was planning on, but I'm just along for the ride at this point.

Susie woke up in a really foul mood. Now, to be fair, this was nothing new; waking up was never a pleasant experience and it somehow got worse the more she did it. Today, however, it was a different kind of foul. The “something I don’t know about is happening and I don’t like it” kind of foul.

She rolled herself out of bed and squished herself around her crowded apartment to get to the newspaper, which had been jammed through the cracks in her door. _Thanks Travis, you fucking moron_, She grumbled, as she picked it up. It did not make her mood better:

Something something Stark, something something nuclear threat, something something Alaska. Perfect. Susie read the news most days to give Midge ideas when she decided talking about her parents had run its course, but she couldn’t find the motivation to look through it. Not after Midge had lit up the Gaslight like it was the fucking fourth of July. For once, Susie wasn’t being metaphorical.

Tony Stark had said to be at the front door around lunch as an explanation before he high-tailed out of the club, and Susie was very prepared to hold him to that. If nothing else, Stark could get Midge into some fancy clubs if they played their cards right. Or maybe he would build that robot suit Midge’s dad kept jabbering about and fight the aliens. Or the Russians. Or whoever the hell America decided was evil this week. 

Someone knocked on the door, and Susie called Midge as a way to stall. Maybe it would be that Steve guy, who was way too fucking tall. How did he fit through doors?

“Susie? You don’t normally call at-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We’re going to Stark Industries after whenever you have lunch. Please, just show up before 3 or something.”

“But my mother-Susie it’s Saturday afternoon.”

“Miriam, this is a billionaire. An actual fucking billionaire. He could jumpstart your career in under 10 minutes. I don’t care if Moses himself called you and told you to stay home, you get your ass to Stark Industries or so help me, I will call your father and tell him that my neighbor is secretly from the moon.”

Someone shuffled from the door and Susie took that to mean that whoever it was had given up. She slammed down the receiver and got up. Time to be a motherfucking agent.

Unfortunately, Stark Industries was fucking ginormous and crowded as all hell. There were three front doors. What assholes needed three front doors? Especially with guards and sleazy business suits walking through them constantly. Not to mention that Midge was entirely unhelpful. She had apparently thought it was appropriate to wear the puffiest yellow dress in existence and tell Susie that she should “muscle her way through.” It was like looking into the fucking sun and it telling you to man up. It was way too fucking distracting.

“So, normally, one has to go through a door to get inside of a building.” Some guy said from her left, and Susie spun around to find Tony Stark. She chuckled a bit as she saw what he was wearing, a disgusting baseball cap below a hooded sweatshirt, and sunglasses. Susie figured he was trying to look inconspicuous with it. It was only kind of working.

“The fuck are you wearing?” Susie smirked at him, and he blinked in surprise.

“Have you seen little Ms. Sunshine over there?” He shot back, and gestured over to Midge. Midge, who was now attempting to seduce the guard with hair twirls. Susie wasn’t sure if it was working or not, but she had to resist the urge to smack someone. And then the magic colors started again, swirling around the two of them.

“Ohh, shit, we should get to the lab.” Stark muttered, and sprinted over to Midge. _Curse him and his slightly longer legs _Susie huffed as she followed. Stark had slung his arm over Midge’s shoulders and turned her towards Susie, grinning and talking. He waved his arms around as he looked vaguely apologetic towards the spellbound guard, then lead Midge onwards, picking up speed as he did so. His arm was still around her shoulders.

“I think that’s close enough, buddy,” Susie said, smacking the offending arm as she matched pace with them. “Aren’t we supposed to be going _into _the building and not away from it?”

“Unless you want to explain magic to the assholes in the suits, not a great plan.” Stark retracted his arm and kept shuffling forward at a slightly faster pace than Susie could keep up with. “There’s a secret elevator. Dear old dad has a less crowded building over there.”

“Right, that’s not creepy in the slightest.”

Stark looked like he was thinking of something as he reached the door. He put in some access code as he rubbed his left arm and then snapped off some bracelet type things. He handed one to Susie and one to Midge, who was breathing heavily from the light jog. Heels are not good running shoes, apparently.

“These are like mini guns.” Stark jolted Susie out of her thoughts as the doors of the elevator opened. “If I, or anyone else for that matter, does anything either of you don’t like down there, point and flick your wrists back.”

“You just have these with you?” Midge asked, staring down at it. “They’re kind of weird-looking.”

“You can redesign it as a charm bracelet if you want, Banana-skirt,” Stark told her as they clambered inside. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

Susie flicked her wrist back and shot the ground in front of her. The thing was powerful enough to leave a smoking hole in the ground and threw her arm back. Susie stared at it as the elevator doors closed. She had a weapon. She had a weapon more powerful than the fuckers with guns in her neighborhood, all in this little bracelet. Hell, she had a weapon from Stark to use against him if she wanted to.

“You’re insane.” She told Stark, who grimaced.

“That’s what happens after you fly a robot suit for somewhere around eight years.” Midge looked at him, eyes wide, trying to see if he was lying. Stark’s face looked grim as he stared back into her eyes.

“So my dad…”

“Isn’t as crazy as you think he is.”

“So where’s your flying suit, then?” Susie scowled. That was pushing any and all disbelief she had. Stark looked towards her now, and smiled sardonically.

“It got lost in translation when I went back in time.”

Susie stared at him for a solid five seconds. That one took the cake.

“You’re fucking crazy.”

“Let’s hope so. Maybe that means this is all some elaborate hallucination on my part and I’ll wake up in my own bed tomorrow.”

The elevator stopped and Stark strode forward, shoulders back and a slightly fake smile in place. Susie honestly wasn’t sure why she followed. But she’d met her fair share of sickos at the Gaslight, and she prided herself on her instincts. Stark, for everything she’d ever read in the paper, hadn’t set off any bad vibes. He just looked defeated, tired and sincere. Actually, now that she thought about it, Stark looked as defeated as her sister did after her husband had lost his leg. Maybe that’s why she kept following him; she wanted to see what he was making out of this. That, and the bracelet gun.

The hallways had a few employees in them, but they seemed more like scientists than business men. Stark had taken them to Stark Industries R&D, one of the most secure places on earth. But Susie relaxed, slightly. This was still corporate. She knew how corporate worked.

“Time travel, huh? That doesn’t sound very fun.” Midge quipped as she looked around the facility, waving to people as she passed. Stark looked back at her with a sarcastic smile.

“It’s boss, darling.” He drawled and turned to the door at the end of the hallway. He put in another passcode, clapped his hands and grinned as the facility opened. “Daddy’s home, boys.”

“Hello, sir,” a disembodied British voice said. Midge and Susie jumped.

“The fuck is that?” she asked Stark. He turned to her with a bright grin on his face.

“That’d be J.A.R.V.I.S.” He said, smiling. “He’ll be helping us run some tests.”

“What tests?” Susie asked as Midge looked panicked. They hadn’t really talked about that. They hadn’t known what they were going to do here. Susie had completely forgotten about asking him to sponsor Midge, what with all of the secret elevator bullshit. She had looked at all of the passcodes, and she’d made sure she had an exit strategy. Talking was one thing, even if it was in a secret R&D building. Tests? That was something else.

“Lemonade over here is going to talk for a while and I’m going to try to figure out why she makes everything glow. Is that fine?” Stark said, looking first at Midge, then at Susie, for confirmation. Susie scanned over the equipment, and she didn’t see any recording equipment. She nodded at Midge.

Midge grinned at Susie as a response, who rolled her eyes and started laughing. This was like their brainstorming sessions they had now and again, and it couldn’t hurt if Stark listened to this and liked it. Plus, the magic glowing thing was really weird. Yeah, this was going to be fine

“Susie, I have a _lot _of material for tonight, tell me what sticks.” Midge told Susie, and she had barely nodded when Midge had launched into a long tirade against aliens, booze, and marriage. Not even slightly in that order.

All in all, she talked for an hour. Midge had paused for water halfway through, because Stark had gotten nervous that all of this energy might genuinely blow them up, and then gotten right back into her tirade about Rabbis. Some of the material had been so good that Stark had had to take a break to laugh when she’d started talking about Captain America’s dumbass shield.

“And _that’s _why marriage vows are bullshit.” Midge finished, and the glow stuff, which had become consistently yellow somewhere around the forty-minute mark instead of rainbow, flared brightly before dying. Midge looked at Susie, panting, then at Stark, who had just finished up one of his readings. “I think that’s all I got.”

“That was perfect.” Stark said, wiping some tears out of his eyes while he put his equipment down. “You guys should be at the big leagues.”

“It’d be nice to have a sponsor.” Susie told him as he finished typing something. Stark looked at her, vaguely amused. He knew exactly what she was trying to do.

“We’ll see if I manage to survive long enough to do it.” Stark deadpanned, and then looked at his test results. “Oh…shit.”

“What?” Susie’s chest seized. That didn’t sound good.

“Cheese-head over there has mental manipulation powers. That much is clear.”

“What?” Midge asked, her eyes wide.

“Apparently, the glow stuff ‘compels’ people to listen to you. They become like…puppets.” Stark shuddered at the end of his sentence. “We might have to run more tests, but…try not to use that on people. It doesn’t feel very good.”

Now, that sounded like personal experience. Susie was about to ask what that meant for Midge when the door burst open. A strawberry blonde woman is standing there, eyes wild and angry. Stark grins sheepishly.

“Hey, Pep-“

“Tony, why the _fuck _are we in the 1950s?!” She screeched at them. Susie couldn’t help taking a step back. This woman looked terrifying. “Who are these two?! AND WHY IS ROGERS HERE?!”

Susie gulped. Midge grinned sheepishly. Stark looked relieved. Maybe it was going to be fine. Stark was smart. He could make sure they didn’t die from this lady’s spiky heels.

“I think we’re in an alternate dimension.”

Nope, she takes that back. She’s going to die.


	3. Tony has to fight his Feelings

Pepper was here. Yes, the situation was dire, and yes, they were in an alternate dimension, and yes, the giant Sunflower had powers a lot like Maximoff’s and it was tripping him up, but Pepper was here. Pepper was here, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. Truth be told, that might not be that far off the mark.

“Hi Pep,” he said, and his voice came out much rougher than it should have. Pepper slouched as she took a shaky breath, all of her emotion draining out to exhaustion. Shit, he’d really put her through the wringer, hadn’t he?

“What do you mean ‘alternate dimension?’” she finally asked after a long pause. Tony spotted Susie and Midget awkwardly trying to sidle away, and he almost laughed.

“I don’t know.” He said, taking a shaky breath of his own “I’ve been here maybe 48 hours and the only thing I know for sure is that the Rogers we know and love is here.”

“Love is a fucking _loose _term.” Pepper muttered, hobbling her way to a chair and collapsing. Tony chuckles, and gets out some whiskey from a secret cabinet he remembered sometime last night. He has an extra set of memories that are coming in slowly, and he’s so glad this one showed up when it did.

“Are you guys talking about Captain America?” Susie asks, and Tony turns to look at her. She looks nervous, and he can’t blame her. He’d brought these two women in for the sole reason of “Here is something interesting happening far away from Rogers.” Which was really a coward move, but…he didn’t know what else to do. He _should _have been moving past this with all that therapy he’d been doing, but alien attacks and the like had made moving on from this a bit difficult.

“Yeah, the golden boys scout himself.” Tony said. Banana’s eyes widened at the admission.

“You really _do _know him?” She asked, like she couldn’t believe her dad had gotten this one right too. Her dad seemed like he knew exactly where the action was. He tapped a screen to send himself a memo to check that out later.

“I never liked the boys scouts,” Susie grumbled as she maneuvered her way in front of Maisel. Tony smirked and she smirked back. She was like a world-weary pit bull, but she seemed to like him anyway. Terrible taste in men there, Susie. Pepper could tell you stories.

“Uh, Tony…” Pepper said as a sudden beeping startled them. Tony turned, looking wildly at the monitors, trying to see what was wrong. Was it the power? Was it-?

Tony’s heart sinks as he notices where the flashing light is coming from. The warning light.

“_Shit.” _he mutters, and turns to the other three. “All of you, get out of here.”

“Why?” Maisel asks, because of course she’s the one who asks questions.

“Attack, I think. They’re coming into the lab. I can distract them.” There, that’s as short as he can make it. She nods without processing as Pepper gets out of the chair. She takes both Susie and Maisel by the elbow, leading them away. Both women follow without commentary, and Tony smiles a little. Pepper was always a fantastic leader. He turns towards the main door as something begins banging on the door.

“Sir, what do you want to do?” J.A.R.V.I.S. asks him, and he jolts. He’s still not used to that, his brain caught somewhere between thinking about his old A.I. and Vision.

“Time to go be Iron Man,” He mutters as he taps his chest. The arc reactor he’d placed over his chest hurts as the particles spread over his body, because apparently getting a shield rammed in your chest after a lot of problems in that area already was not great. But. Iron Man.

The door had stopped shaking, finally, and instead there was a kind of purple goop pushing itself through the cracks. Alien then. Tony raised his hands, the reactors firing up as the purple goop formed into a humanoid shape.

“Well. That was disgusting,” He said. The humanoid thing, which was still a purple mess but had some clear spots speckling it, cocked its head. Then it morphed into a mirror image of Rogers, back in the star-spangled uniform.

“Do you still find me disgusting?” It _purred _and swayed its hips almost seductively_. _And then it pulled out a knife while something on its arm turned into a shield. Jesus Christ. He wished he’d chugged more of the whiskey, because he was not drunk enough for this. He could feel actual bile in his throat.

“More disgusting, actually,” He retorted, and shot it in the chest with the left reactor. Rogers’s-the alien’s-eyes widened as it fell backwards.

He felt the heat from the reactor slowly dying down as he lowered his hand. His chest hurt again, and his left arm was numb. Well. That was easy.

Then the thing got back up, and now it had morphed into a model of Spider-Man. He couldn’t breath. J.A.R.V.I.S. was a tinny voice in his ear, and he gulped. C’mon Stark, pull yourself together. It was like that mutant he’d heard about, Mystique. It wasn’t Spider-Man. He raised his hand again, the right one this time.

“What, you want more?” He snarled. Please, don’t fight back. He’s had nightmares like this. The Spider-Man thing morphed again, this time into…his mom. It smiled.

“Try and shoot me, asshole.” It said, in his mom’s voice. It waited, a beat, as Tony’s arm shook between them. He couldn’t. He couldn’t kill his mother. Its smile widened, and then it lunged forward in a pile of sludge. His back hit the lab table, he flipped over.

He gasped, trying to get his breath and then-

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. The purple was on his throat. It was going _through _the suit. He couldn’t breathe. The black spots were coming back in. He twisted his arm up and shot. It let go with a scream and he shot it again. Then a missile for good measure.

It recoiled, screeching in pain, and Tony let himself have a gasp for air, before staring at the purple sludge, arms up.

“Who sent you?” He shouted, and the thing screeched again. This time it sounded unhinged, laughing and crying with one long sound. It formed back up into…Rhodey. Well shit.

“The universe sent me.” It whispered. He shot it again. Rhodey collapsed in front of him.

“Ok, thanks for nothing, Yoda.” He tells it as he walks, cautiously, mind you, to the pile.

“There are more coming,” it hisses, and he raises his arm again. It recoils with a squeal.

“What do you mean ‘there are more coming?’” He demands, and the thing just laughs at him. Breathless, wild, choking bits of laughter echoing throughout the lab. “TELL ME!” But the sludge forms in on itself and runs.

“FUCK!” He hears from beyond the backdoor. He thinks J.A.R.V.I.S. amplified Susie. Who must be under attack too. The “more coming.” _Shit. _

The armor is flying through the narrow hallways before he can process it. He turns a corner at full speed and almost crashes through the wall. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_, that hurt.

“Run the flight checks, J!” He screams, and feels some relief when the H.U.D. changes accordingly. He turns another corner with a lot less pain, and lands right behind Susie, who is still rattling out a frankly ridiculous amount of swears as she hides behind some plants.

“You alright?” He shouts, because his head is still ringing from…well, a lot of things, and Susie screams, flashing the reactor he gave her in his face. Tony quickly motions for J to take down the mask.

“Hey, hey, it’s me!” He says, hands up. Susie stares at him for a second, breathing hard and her arm still outstretched. Then she drops her arm, and shoots him a glare.

“Listen here, asshole. You’re gonna explain what the fucking _shit _is happening to Midge, or else I-“

“Wait, what _about_ Midge?” Tony cuts her off, because she’s not around Susie, like she had been before. “Where is she?”

“Where do you _think_, dipshit?” She asks as she waves across the hallway to where Midge Maisel is currently using the golden streaks of magic to fend off three of those purple monsters at once.

“Holy fuck,” Is all Tony manages to say before J shoves his mask back on and flies next to Midge. He uses his chest reactor to singe one of the ones right behind her into a nice crispy solid, because none of them have morphed into anything he feels too guilty about and they’re attacking civilians, goddammit.

She turns around, and her eyes widen. He panics a bit, thinking she’s been injured or something, and gestures behind him, well out of the line of fire. The two goop monsters left have retreated a bit, gearing up for another attack. Midge stumbles towards him a little, then turns around and screams some harsh sounding words that sound like Russian, barely understandable as speech. 

They explode. The purple goop goes everywhere, staining the grey walls, Midget’s cheese-colored dress, the fucking plants, his armor. It’s everywhere.

“Holy…fuck,” He hears to the right, opposite from where Susie is, and turns to see Pepper, eyes wide and gawking with a gauntlet half-assembled on her wrist. Turns out the 60s made this stuff harder to assemble. It was somehow more comical than 2008, when she’d seen the Iron Man suit for the first time.

He looks at Pepper, then at Midge, and then Susie, who had begun inching out of her hiding spot. All three women were staring, Pepper and Susie staring at Midge in disbelief and Midge staring at the goop that covered the hallway.

“So uh…what the shit happened?” He asks, motioning at his suit to sink back into his reactor. Midge blinked at it.

“Oh. _That’s _the suit.” she says, now staring at him. Tony takes a breath, and nods.

“Yeah. Although…I think you have me beat in superpowers.” He said, gesturing at the hallway. Midge gulps.

“I don’t think-“

“Miriam, cut the bullshit,” Susie says, and they all turn to her. She’s inched closer to them, and she’s still staring at Midge. “You just fought off three aliens more or less on your own.”

“He helped.” Midge said, gesturing towards Tony and he put his hands back up in mock surrender.

“I took out _one _and distracted them. You got the rest of them, Banana-skirt.” He says. Midge’s eyes widened. Susie’s jaw dropped. Pepper…well Pepper had smacked her forehead. Yeah he deserved that one.

“Look, how about you guys come to the lab again, and we find you a security detail or something. Figure out a plan, get ideas down, all of that. Sound good?” He says, shooting for a reassuring smile. It works a bit, because Midge slumps against Pepper. He jogs to Susie, who offers him a half-hearted scowl. He takes her elbow and she doesn’t even shake him off. Christ, she must be shaken. Not that he can blame her.

They make their way to the lab slowly, and do their best to clean everyone from the goop. Midge has to change her entire outfit, which Pepper helps with, murmuring reassurances the whole time. Tony takes out some more alcohol, and offers some to Susie instead of trying that. He has a feeling he’d get flashbacks of dealing with bullies back in MIT if he tried to talk about feelings with her. The stains barely showed up on her jacket anyway.

“Hey, you wanna see the fight in real time?” He asks. Pepper smacks her forehead again, but Susie nods suspiciously and a bit eagerly. Maybe a dormant science nerd. His favorite kind.

“Let’s do it, motherfucker.” She says, grinning a bit. She’s all fake bravado and deflection. It’s exactly his M.O., and it’s comforting, in a weird way. He punches a few buttons and tries to pretend that it’s totally normal for him to have invented CCTV in one night.

Susie’s jaw drops when she sees the video, and Tony can’t help but do the same. There’s Midge beating them back like a fucking banshee, turning her angry tone on them making them shrink back. She handles it with the grace of a goddamn hostess. It’s fantastic, one gets closer and she turns on it and it fucking _slinks _away, like its scared of her. It’s like Pepper, if Pepper got Maximoff powers and wasn’t a dick.

Because Midge has now said multiple times that she wanted to get rid of the power, that she didn’t want it. It’s a striking difference from the powered people he knows, who like the superiority the magic powers gives them.

“So you can spy on people now? Fucking perverted,” Susie grumbles, defensive, and Tony sighs, looking at the table.

“We have them everywhere where I’m from. It makes it a lot easier not to be caught with ‘he said this.’” He says, taking a swig from his glass. Susie frowns, and some of the tension bleeds out of her.

“You have a fucking robot suit, and you’re scared of heresy?” she asks. It’s a lot more understanding than he thought it would be.

“It’s almost killed me,” he murmurs, and Susie shoots him a pitying look that she covers up by taking a swig of her own drink. Because, really, heresy had lead to Ultron, Siberia, a lot of things. Almost died in so many different ways.

“Well…_fuck _hearsay,” She says, pouring herself another glass and lifting it up in a toast format. Tony grins and pours himself some more too.

“Fuck hearsay.” He echoes, clinking his glass to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That drinking buddy tag finally shows up in the story! Yay!


	4. Susie has a No Good Very Bad Morning

Susie wakes up early. In fact, she wakes up so early, she could almost consider it late.

“Fucking sun’s not even up yet.” she grumbles, and mashes the pillow on top of her face, trying to drown out the images of Midge fighting sludge monsters. Both of them had nearly died yesterday. Midge had saved them and then Stark had-

Stark had tried to help. He’d promised that he would figure everything out and that it would all be ok, and then he’d sent them along to sleep it off. But something still felt off. She hoped he’d bought her “Oh my gosh, you’re from the future.” spiel, because it seemed like the thing to do, and she’d told Midge to go along to it, and then she’d held off three sludge monsters on her own and-

Susie takes a deep breath, and fumbles for the light. Her fingers brush against her booze stash and she clutches at it, but her hands are shaking too much to actually bring it to her lips. _Shit._ She hasn’t been this freaked out since she was a kid. Maybe it’s because Stark and Potts remind her so much of Tess.

Susie shakes her head, and rubs the sleep from her eyes. That’s enough wallowing. Wallowing never gets anyone anywhere. She gets to her feet, hits the light, rolls her still shaking shoulders, and looks around the dingy room. Breakfast. Food will make everything better.

She puts her bed away with a satisfying slam, and strikes a match. She lights the stove and then a cigarette she’d shoved into her pocket the night before. She smiles a little as she notices her hands are steadier.

She makes her instant coffee, drinks it black, and jerks open her door. She immediately trips on her neighbor’s newspaper. _Oh that motherFUCKER._

She latches on to that bit of anger. Oh look, a little bit of purpose. She grabs the paper, and marches to her neighbor’s door. _Stupid blond asshole, just because you look like Captain America doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole, that piece of- _She bangs on the man’s door, scowling at it until he opens it.

It’s not the blond asshole. It’s a haggard looking man, hair to his shoulders, missing an arm. He scours the hallway at his eye level, and then adjusts to look down at her. Susie can see the dark circles under his eyes, and how he keeps brushing his hair forward. Like he’s trying to hide. Or make himself less dangerous. Susie shakes it off. Focuses on the anger.

“Hey, here’s your fucking paper. Get it away from my goddamn front door,” She snarls, shoving it in his chest. The man blinks, curls his one arm around it. His eyes are wide, panicked. Susie’s nonexistent conscience twinges.

“Uh. Never mind. Where’s blondie?” Blondie was confused when she talked to him, but he wasn’t scared. He acted like nothing could ever scare him. Susie could yell at assholes like that. Not a one-armed man with the temperament of Bambi.

“He’s still sleeping.” The man’s voice is gravelly and creaky, and he never stops scanning the room. “Where am I?” And then he started speaking in another language. She thinks she hears the slithering sounds from the lab in the distance, and she holds up a panicked hand.

“Sorry, I don’t speak whatever the hell that was. Just. Here’s your fucking paper.” She turned on her heel, and made to leave. Was that Russian? Was he a spy? He was scared of her, she hadn’t been expecting-

“You’re in New York.” She hears herself say. _Was _she the one who said that? It doesn’t sound like something she’d say but there’s no one else in the hallway. Susie tries to shake it off. She’ll go to the Gaslight. It’ll probably be open.

She hears the slithering sound again, and she feels a cold lump of dread shoot through her body. She stills for a second, and turns back to the man. He’s as tense as she is.

“Do you hear that?” She whispers. The man nods, blue eyes darting across the hallway. He’s heard it too. He’s scared too. Dear God.

“Get inside” He rasps, gesturing stiffly with his good arm. Susie hesitates for only a second before running towards him. At the very least, she doesn’t want to die alone.

“Stevie, wake up,” The man whispers, kicking the bed. He breaks off the leg, and now Susie’s starting to wonder if she should take her chances with the slime monster things. Blond Asshole’s up in under a second, pointing a knife at both of them.

“Oh, fuck, you’re Russian spies.” She wants to throw up. She can’t remember the last time she’s felt like throwing up. She staggers to the door. _They’ll kill you._ Susie’s not sure which they she should be worried about. The dark-haired man gently blocks her path, his good arm resting on her chest.

“What do you know about these things?” he asks, eyes intense. He seems apologetic about not letting her leave, but he won’t budge. Wildly, Susie thinks of Midge. They have the same fucking eyes.

“They’re these sludge things.” Susie hisses, trying to scoot around him. “I don’t know anything.” He closes the door.

“You know to be scared of them.” He points out, inclining his head so that his hair falls back into his face. “You have to know about something to be scared of it.”

“Buck?” Blondie rasps, seemingly taking this long to get himself back on track. The man, (Buck? like money?) turns towards him. Their eyes meet, and suddenly they’re not paying attention to her at all. Susie takes a deep breath, and tries to sneak past the one-armed guy. She stalls when she catches sight of sludge.

“U-uh” Susie stammers, backing into One-Arm. The man starts and turns, jerky and terrified. His eyes are wide, pupils near non-existent. They focus on the sludge, who remakes itself into a woman. Her curls and lipstick are perfect, her face twisted into a cruel smile.

“Carter.” One-Arm says.

“Peggy,” Blondie rasps.

“What the fuck!” Susie screeches, raising her arm. She still has that bracelet Stark gave her, and she fires, hitting the woman square in the eye. There’s a shrill screech as she explodes into goo, falling against the door.

She’s already reforming-Susie catches Tess’s blond curls, Midge’s eyes-and Susie shoots again, and then again for good measure. It doesn’t get back up.

Susie turns around, and she finds Blondie with the knife trained on her, and One-Arm crouched in a fighting stance. Susie edges towards the door, arm trained on them.

“What was that?” One-Arm rasps, eyes tracking Stark’s bracelet.

“I told you, I don’t know.” Susie says, finally reaching the door. She fumbles for the handle. “Stark said he’d run some tests or something, I’ll go check on that.”

She jerks open the door, and runs. She doesn’t stop at her apartment, she doesn’t stop until she’s outside. She slows to a walk, cradling her shooting arm. She winces with every step. Stark hadn’t warned her how much it would hurt.

“Hey!” That’s Blondie, from somewhere behind her. Susie walks a little faster, sparing one single look back to see if she can spot him. She turns a corner and runs smack into One-Arm.

She staggers backwards, arm extended. She winces, and she latches onto her other wrist. One-Arm looks dead at her, still in a defensive stance

“We just want to talk.” He says.

“Tell Blondie that, he’s the asshole with the knife.” She snarls. “Now move.”

“Stevie’s harmless.” One-Arm says.

“That’s not what harmless looks like.” She says, trying to circle around him. He raises an eyebrow, like he can’t believe she’s trying this.

“He’s basically a Boy Scout.” He says. Susie rolls her eyes.

“Sure. Whatever. I need to get to work.” One-Arm looks at her, then lets her past him. Susie hurries herself to the subway, and gets to the Upper West Side as quickly as possible.

* * *

“I need to use your phone.” Susie says as she barges into Midge’s apartment.

“U-Uh Susie, what happened to you?” Midge stutters but Susie barrels right past her to the phone without another word. She takes out the card that Stark had given her. She starts dialing

“Hey, do you remember the sludge monsters?” Susie near snarls into the phone the second she hears him pick up.

“I might remember something of that sort.” He responds. Susie can hear the eyebrow raise. This motherFUCKER.

“Well, they came after me this morning. There was some blond boy scout asshole there, a one-armed motherfucker, and a sludge monster that tried to kill all of us. Where’s your tests now, you piece of-“

“Susie, I have kids!” Midge shouts, and Susie turns to her.

“What’re you gonna do when they come here, huh? They came after me!”

“Wait, wait,” Stark, on the phone, sounds exhausted. “They came after you? And a blond boy scout? Oh don’t fucking tell me…”

“Spit it out, Stark.”

“That’s probably Captain America. One-Arm is probably Bucky Barnes.”

Oh. Buck. Shit. She really did have the worst luck today. 

“Jesus Christ.” Susie mutters, setting the phone against her head. Captain Goddamn America. “So they’re not Russian spies.”

“Barnes might be.” Stark says. Susie’s pretty sure he’s hitting himself in the head with the receiver, because the audio keeps cutting in and out. “The line gets real blurred nowadays.”

Susie’s not entirely sure what she should do with that information, and she’s quiet for a while as she tries to process it. This sounds like an alternate reality kind of thing, but that’s also the dumbest shit she’s ever heard.

“I suppose we should come back to the lab?” Susie finally says. She tries to placate Midge as she does it, because Midge has started ranting and the magic powers are acting up again.

“I’ll come to you. They already attacked the lab, maybe we’ll have a better shot somewhere else.” Stark says. “What’s the address?”

Susie rattles it off, hangs up, and then turns to Midge.

“Ok, he says he’ll be here within a half-hour.”

“Susie, what the actual-“

“Look, panicking isn’t going to help, ok? I already did my share of that.” Susie stretches out the crick her shoulder. Christ, that hurts. “Right now, we should focus on not blowing up your apartment.”

Midge looks around, then turns to Susie, sheepish.

“Ah. Good note.”

Susie sighs. She probably doesn’t get paid enough for this.

“Alright, how about we get some tea or something and wait for Stark to come and run some tests.” Midge raises a brow. Susie can tell that it’s mostly performative.

“_You _want tea?”

Susie snorts. God, can you even imagine.

“The tea’s for you. I’m planning on stealing some of your dad’s liquor. I know he has some.”

Midge laughs, and it’s sharper than normal. But it’s a laugh, so Susie will take that as a win. Midge puts on a pot of hot water, and explains that her mom went out for tea, because of the tea leaves. Midge’s chatter doesn’t trigger anything, so Susie lets her talk her nerves out, even if half she says is fucking crazy.

For her part, Susie finds the liquor cabinet. There’s a lot more Vodka in here than she was expecting, but it all looks like it’s good quality. She’s very excited to drain some.

It hasn’t even been five minutes when someone knocks on the door. Susie’s still in the process of weighing two vodkas by color, because she can’t read the labels.

“Wow, that was fast!” Midge says, taking a pause from her rant to trot to the door. Susie follows her, holding three bottles.

“That might have been too fast.” Susie mutters, as she rotates one of the bottles in her hand.

“Susie, relax, I’m sure it’s fine.” Midge says. She opens the door to One-Arm, staring dead at her. He has a knife in his hand. Susie drops the bottles, and Midge jumps. 

“You were saying?” Susie squeaks, grabbing Midge and hauling her away from the door. Midge stutters as Susie holds out her arm. “What the fuck are you doing here.”

“Tell me about the slime things.” One-Arm says, eyes insistent. Susie fires up her arm bracelet.

“Get the fuck out of here before I shoot you. Barnes, was it?” The man starts, and Susie’s heart sinks. Well, shit, Stark was right. “Is Captain Goddamn America right behind you, you fuckweasel?”

“I came alone. Stevie went to talk to Stark.” he says. Susie scoffs. “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” Midge says. Susie turns to look at her. Midge is messing with her sleeve, eyes fixed on Barnes.

“Miriam, have you lost your goddamn mind?” That’s the only explanation for this.

“He just wants to talk.” Midge insists. Her eyes match his. She won’t budge. Jesus Fuck.

“Your fucking funeral.” She’s not going to win. Midge has superpowers, she has a Stark bracelet, if she wants to lose her shit, fine. She’s going to put some distance here.

She’s goes to grab a few more bottles and a broom, lingering until she hears another knock at the door. She opens it to find an exhausted-looking Stark. He tries for a grin when he sees her, which falters the instant he notices Barnes and Midge, awkwardly facing each other. Susie cringes.

“Want some booze?” she says, holding up a bottle of what she thinks is liquor. He chuckles.

“Yes. desperately.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hello writer's block, my old enemy. 
> 
> I don't know where I'm going with this anymore. It's basically doing what it wants at this point.


End file.
